Saint John’s account of the healing of the man who was blind from birth is extraordinarily long; . . . extraordinarily long but instructive.  Instructive because it isn’t only the account of a healing which John gives us, . . . but it is the record of a spiritual journey as well.

    You see, the Temple precincts were a kind of community center at Jerusalem.  There was a continual flow, in and out, of pilgrims, religious scholars, and devout Jews making a thank offering or a sin offering or any number of sacrifices prescribed by Sacred Law to be made for the innumerable joys and sorrows that fill a common life.  . . . So, the Temple precincts were an ideal place for people to congregate who made their living by begging.  And so it was for the man born blind (Yitzak, we’ll call him).  Yitzak made his living by begging in the Temple precincts . . . where joyful people were self-consciously generous . . . and sorrowful people were generous in the hope that God would notice.

    Well, one day Jesus is in the Temple precincts, and He notices Yitzak and asks the disciples who are with Him if anyone has a coin for Yitzak, . . . and a theological discussion about sin arises:  whether Yitzak was born blind on account of some sin of his parents . . . or if the Lord God Almighty, with His infinite foreknowledge, caused Yitzak to be born blind because of some unspeakable sin he was destined to commit.  . . . And suddenly it is perfectly clear to Jesus that this is no chance meeting He’s had with Yitzak, . . . and He says to His disciples,

It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be made manifest in him.  We must work the works of him who sent me, while it is day; night comes, when no one can work.  As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.

So, Jesus scoops up some of the dust from the hard-pack earth floor of the Temple precincts . . . and He spits into his hand to make a paste of the dust and smears it on Yitzak’s eyes, telling him to wash it off in the Pool of Siloam, a water reservoir on the West side of town.  . . . Now, while Yitzak was born blind, it doesn’t mean he had no feeling in his eyes, . . . and he’s just had grit rubbed into them!  . . . It must have been very unpleasant.  So, probably led by one of the disciples (I can’t imagine Jesus simply abandoning a blind man to find his way across town, can you?); . . . so, probably led by one of the disciples, Yitzak is brought to the Pool of Siloam where he washes the grit out of his eyes . . . and experiences a new sensation:  light!  Yitzak can see!

    Yitzak encounters Jesus Who does not give him what he wants -- a silver shekel or two with which to buy his food or pay his rent; . . . Yitzak encounters Jesus Who does not give him what he wants but, instead, gives Yitzak a great discomfort:  Jesus spits in Yitzak’s eye and rubs dirt in it.  . . . But the outcome of his encounter with Jesus is that he can see.  Yitzak’s spiritual journey has begun.  Because, returning to his home to contemplate this radical change in his life and decide what to do next, . . . Yitzak’s neighbors notice he has his sight.  And they ask him how it came about.  Yitzak tells them that he received his sight from “the man called Jesus”, about Whom he knows nothing more.  . . . Well, this is a genuine miracle, so some of Yitzak’s neighbors bring him to the religious authorities so that they might know about it and God be praised.

    The religious authorities, however, are not so quick as Yitzak’s neighbors to praise God.  Instead, they carefully question Yitzak about this supposed healing, and Yitzak, in giving another full account of his healing, recognizes that Jesus is more than simply a man like himself.  Yitzak tells the religious authorities that the man called Jesus “is a prophet.”  . . . Some of the religious authorities rejoice at the presence of a prophet; . . . others aren’t convinced.  So, Yitzak is called in, once more, for the inconvenience of a second interview . . . which doesn’t go well at all … and ends up with his excommunication.

    Jesus hears about the insult and contempt Yitzak has suffered because of the awe and wonder that has grown up in him after his healing encounter with God’s Son . . . and so Jesus visits Yitzak to assure him that even though he has been rejected by the religious authorities . . . he still has God’s regard.  And with this assurance, Yitzak worships Jesus.  . . . Yitzak begins by receiving physical light from “the man called Jesus” about Whom he knows nothing more, . . . and he goes, by stages, to becoming filled with spiritual light; . . . he recognizes that Jesus is the Incarnate Son of God . . . and worships Him.  . . . And then Jesus says the thing that the appointed reading omits but which is the point of the whole story; . . . Jesus says,

For judgment I came into this world, that those who do not see may see, and that those who see may become blind.

Jesus teaches us, John says; . . . Jesus teaches us that in Him, if you will endure the discomfort, Heaven can be won, . . . but Heaven can be lost as well.

    And so, in this season of Lent we remember the blind man’s spiritual journey when Jesus spit in his eye so that he could see.  We remember that the vision Jesus offers us exposes us to the contempt of the world, because it is contrary to how profane men and women think a person ought to believe; . . . we remember that the vision Jesus offers us exposes us to the insult of our own flesh, being contrary to what the taint of Original Sin causes our flesh to desire; . . . and it is certainly contrary to the lies the devil tells.  . . . We remember this during this season of Lent because on Palm Sunday and again on Good Friday we will recollect the agony Jesus suffered so that the vision He gives us might bring us to Life!  . . . We remember the blind man’s spiritual journey during this season of Lent . . . so that at the Great Vigil of Easter each of you might renounce the world, the flesh, and the devil, becoming, in the words of the Apostle writing to the Church at Ephesus; becoming “imitators of God . . . [who] walk in love, as Christ loved us”; . . . so that dying to the world, the flesh, and the devil, you might give yourself up, body and soul, as an offering to God.  For, while the Lord God Almighty has given us His light in His Incarnate Son, . . . a thing we rejoice about at Christmas; . . . while the Lord God Almighty has given us His sacred spiritual light in His Incarnate Son; while Jesus has poured out upon us that same sacred light which empowers us to become and be sons and daughters of God; . . . while the Risen Jesus has breathed on us the Holy Spirit of our Baptism Who continually enlightens our souls so that we might attain to everlasting felicity, . . . we can still lose Heaven if we don’t make Jesus the worship of our life.  . . . We can still lose Heaven if our religion is merely formal and we don’t invite Jesus to spit in our eye.  . . . We can still lose Heaven if, for an hour on Sunday, we profess to be filled with light . . . and then embrace dark things for the rest of the week; . . . if we appropriate ways that countenance theft and lying and greed and supplanting God with images that please our carnal appetites . . . or if we supplant God with ideas and rituals that appeal to our own self-preoccupation.  We can lose Heaven if we live like people who are blind to God’s Light.  . . . And so, the Apostle says, “be imitators of God” (by which he means to imitate Jesus as best you are able during this stage of your spiritual journey into the Light).  . . . The Apostle says, “be imitators of God . . . and try to learn what is pleasing to the Lord.”  . . . Indeed, all of us must spend these remaining days of Lent and Holy Week, however inconvenient they may be for us; however uncomfortable they may make us; . . . all of us must spend these remaining days of Lent and Holy Week focused upon the light of Christ Jesus which illuminates the things that are pleasing to our Heavenly Father . . . so that we might live them.